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Cobblestone King

I can tell this cityís dying,
Itís clammy, cold, and quiet.
Faint lights flicker in the darkness,
But this time I donít buy it.
And Iím sure those lights are lying;
I believe this cityís dying.

All itís people hide come nightfall,
They canít stand these lonely streets,
So they hide inside their houses,
Watch TV and go to sleep.
Theyíre so damn near invisible
That they need not be there at all.

So I wander through the alleys,
Heir to some forgotten throne,
The whole city as my shadow,
We both sense our subjects gone,
Weíve no enemies nor allies,
Just our nameless hills and valleys.


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